Under the Microscope
by waterbaby134
Summary: Mitch and Jamie, through the eyes of their acquaintances, their friends, and each other.


**Welcome to my first (and probably only) Zoo fanfic. I watched the series recently and found myself hooked on this idea of this pairing. I've always been a sucker for a tragic love story, and these two are a classic example.**

 **This story covers major events in both seasons so beware of spoilers if you haven't seen up to 2x13.**

 **I own nothing recognisable in this story.**

 **If you are reading this, I sincerely hope you will enjoy.**

* * *

 _Mitch_

She's a sight for sore eyes. After spending all day scooping up lion crap, the pretty redhead with the big blue eyes is a welcome distraction. She introduces herself as Jamie Campbell, and asks about the lion attacks. He gets the feeling straightaway that this woman is no ordinary journalist; that she's here for more than a story, and that's interesting. So he agrees to indulge whatever idea is growing in that pretty head. Worst case scenario, he wastes a few hours, and gets to spend the afternoon with a beautiful woman. The decision is easy enough.

Mitch often wonders if he'd make the same call if he knew then what he knows now. That the lion attack and the cats in the tree were just the tip of the iceberg, that the whole thing crosses not just state lines, but international borders, and that the human race is very rapidly heading for the moment that will determine its future forever. It's a lot of pressure, being humanity's last hope. Life was a lot less stressful when he was just an anti-social veterinary pathologist.

But it's not all bad. He reconnects with his daughter after too many years; he is finally part of something that is making a difference, for the first time in years he has actual _friends_. And then there's Jamie. Feisty, courageous, take-no-prisoners Jamie who has the strongest will and steeliest determination he's ever seen and will stop at nothing to see Reiden Global brought down.

Falling for Allison and Audra had been a slow process. With Jamie, fittingly, it hits him like a ton of bricks one day, catching him completely off guard, just like she did the day they first met. Suddenly he can't get her out of his head, misses her when she's gone, wants to spend every spare minute with her. Suddenly, when he senses a presence behind him when he's using the microscope, he can tell immediately when it's her. When she smiles, he smiles with her. When she's upset, he is the first to comfort her. He realises then that he's not _falling_ for her at all. He's already fallen. It's done.

Leave it to Mitch Morgan, the master of bad timing, to find his ideal woman while they're busy trying to save the world. As badly as he wants to tell her, he knows he can't. Putting aside the fact that there's probably a snowball's chance in hell that she feels the same way, they don't have time for this; they're on a deadline, and they have to focus on finding a cure. So he does what he does best when things get emotional. He puts his head down, and shuts up.

He nearly lets it slip in Zambia. He and Jamie are working in the pathology lab, alone for what feels like the first time in weeks, and buoyed along by the hope that they've finally unlocked the key to the cure, he lets his guard down.

Everything he tells her is true; without her influence, he wouldn't have done half the stuff he's done with the team. She made him stronger, braver. He owes her a lot, and she deserves to know it. However, at the last possible second, he shies away from telling her how he truly feels about her, even though he suspects she might have guessed. She's many years his junior after all, and even if they do cure the animals and save the world, what does he even have to offer her? A father who barely knows his own daughter, a man who struggles to hold a civil conversation with most people, a man that, like she says, prefers the company of animals to people. She had him pegged right from the first day, and she deserves so much more.

She corners him on the plane back to the States. He makes a lame joke about the mini bottle of alcohol, is pleased when she smiles and revels in what he suspects might be the last time he gets to be alone with her.

When she kisses him, cutting him off mid-sentence, he's taken completely by surprise. But it quickly sinks in, and he kisses her back with everything he has, feels his hand to come up to gently caress the side of her face. This could be the only chance he gets with her; he has to make it count. He lets her set the pace; and it's tender and it's sweet, and he doesn't think he's ever had a better first kiss. It's perfect.

And then it's over.

And _then,_ she's gone.

* * *

 _Dalton, the bartender_

The world's going to hell in a hand basket. Murderous animals are roaming the streets and nobody seems to know what to do. It makes sense that at times like these, people want to drink. To forget. To escape, to try and recapture what it was like to feel that they were in control of something.

His bar has never been what you would call a happening nightspot; it's always been the kind of place where people come to disappear from their reality for a while. It attracts the loners, and the sad and the ones that feel like they've been alienated by the world.

Mitch Morgan is a mixture of all three. The first time he comes in, he claims a stool at the bar, orders a whiskey, and belts it down. He's not the chatty type, Dalton ascertains that between whiskeys three and four when he asks his name in an unsuccessful attempt to strike up a conversation. Mitch Morgan answers his question shortly, and makes it abundantly clear that he's here to drink, not socialise. When he leaves at closing after settling his large tab, Dalton doubts he'll see him again, but Mitch Morgan returns the next day, and the day after that, and soon becomes a fixture in the bar.

Dalton's been in the bar business long enough to know that Mitch Morgan is now a regular, and that a successful bartender takes care of his regulars. So he takes note of the brand of whiskey Mitch prefers and keeps it handy, and the barstool he whiles away many hours on is kept clear for him whenever he chooses to arrive. In return, Mitch faithfully settles his tab each night and can occasionally be coaxed into talking in quiet periods. He won't be drawn on anything personal; his job or family and the like, which Dalton can understand in these troubled times, but he talks enough for Dalton to realise he is an intelligent man. Clearly educated, perhaps even an academic before the world went crazy, and most interestingly of all, he doesn't seem to mind the dog. The first time he saw Bomba he scrutinized him carefully, as though he was looking for something, but when he failed to find it, paid him no more mind. Other patrons have panicked or tried to attack the dog in the past, so Mitch is a pleasant change.

In short Mitch keeps to himself, and drinks. Occasionally his cell phone rings and he has brief, terse conversations, before downing what remains of his drink and ordering another. Dalton recognises the symptoms of a man in deep pain, he's certainly had a few come through his doors, but he knows better than to pry. He won't get an answer, and he'll risk losing his best customer.

Several months pass, and Mitch's routine doesn't change. In around five, out at closing time, practically every day. He shuffles in like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, drops onto his trusty barstool and wallows in his own misery and all the whiskey Dalton can find. It isn't until the altercation with the three well-dressed assholes, that anything changes.

It starts when they question the presence of the dog. Escalates when Mitch (to Dalton's great surprise) decides to intervene, and becomes downright confusing when he starts to ramble drunkenly about love and missed opportunities. From what Dalton can gather (because Mitch isn't making much sense,) he lost somebody. Somebody special. Hardly a rarity in the strange new world they live in, but just because many others potentially share your sorrow doesn't make it any less painful. Whoever this person is, they obviously had a profound effect on Mitch Morgan, so much so that he apparently can't seem to function without them. Instinctively, he guesses that it was a woman. Taciturn guys like Mitch don't tie themselves in knots and drink themselves into a stupor over just anybody. She must have been extraordinary.

After the assholes leave, Dalton returns back behind the bar and Mitch returns to draining tonight's bottle of whiskey.

The tinny tune of Mitch's cell-phone breaks the silence that has settled over them.

"Mitch Morgan, totally awesome scientist."

The abrupt change in his tone when the caller responds grabs Dalton's attention. Gone is the false veneer of smugness, instead he now sounds almost angry.

"No it isn't. Jamie's dead. Who…who is this? You don't even sound like her."

He goes silent as the caller speaks again, and this time Dalton can see something that looks a lot like hope appearing in his eyes, like he badly wants to believe whatever it is he's hearing, but can't bear to, just in case he's wrong. And then…

"It really is you."

For the first time, Dalton sees Mitch Morgan actually smile, and in such a subtle, tender way that he knows this must be _her_ , the woman he's been mourning ever since he walked into his bar. The one he thought he lost, but now apparently has found him.

He sidles away to clear off a table and give his customer some privacy, although he suspects Mitch wouldn't even notice if a herd of elephants burst into the bar right now, as he's gripping onto that phone as though it's a lifeline. He's speaking in hushed tones, with warmth he's never seemed capable of during their acquaintance.

When the conversation ends, Mitch immediately dials another number.

"Chloe? It's Mitch…no never mind that, just listen. It's about Jamie. I just got off the phone with her, she's alive! I know, it's unbelievable but if anyone could miraculously survive a plane crash it'd be her."

A pause.

"We've gotta go get her. You and Jackson can arrange something right? Yes of course I'm sure, don't you think I thought the exact same thing, but I know it was her….How? I said I didn't believe her, so she called me an ass." He stifles a low chuckle as the other person speaks again for a long time. Mitch's joy seems to subside a little as he listens, lips pursed, as though 'Chloe' is attempting to persuade him about something.

"OK, fine. I'm back in. I'll meet you there in the morning. But we get her before we do anything else." Another brief pause. "Because she's got the leopard that's why. God knows how she managed it….OK, I'll see you tomorrow."

He ends the call and then raps his knuckles against the bar. Dalton returns to the bar, retrieving a new bottle on the way, ready to refill Mitch's glass, but the man shakes his head.

"No, I'm paying up," he says, brandishing some bills at Dalton. "I'm done."

"Kind of early, isn't it?" Dalton asks, taking the cash and depositing it in the till. "I'm not closing up for another two hours."

"Thanks for letting me hide here these last few months," says Mitch, surprising him with his sincerity. "I needed an escape. But I'm good now."

Dalton eyes him as he hands over the change. In the last few minutes, Mitch Morgan seems to have become a different man. His eyes have life in them. He looks about a foot taller, and a decade younger, like he's taken some kind of stimulant.

"You sure about that?" asks Dalton.

"Absolutely." Mitch rises, and shrugs on his coat; grins at Dalton. "I just got a second chance."

He strides out of the bar. Dalton never sees him again.

* * *

 _Abraham_

Abraham Kenyatta has had few expectations for the way his life would turn out, and it is safe to say that being one-fifth of a secret off-the-books team to try and find out what's happening to the world's animals was never in in the plan.

The investigation he and Jackson had started into the latter's father's work had taken them to a radiation-soaked island off Fukushima and then landed them in a room with three other people, an odd assortment of characters that have all been led there in different ways, but brought together for one purpose: answers.

In small groups like this, there usually tends to be a spanner in the works, and right off the bat, Abe can tell that their resident scientist, Mitch Morgan, is going to be the difficult one. The first sentence out of his mouth is a shot at Jackson's father and his somewhat questionable findings. To be fair, it's nothing that Jackson hasn't said himself a hundred times, but a slight on Robert is a slight on Jackson, and Abraham will not let that stand.

His initial instinct about Mitch turns out to be correct, in the main. The man, while brilliant, is acerbic, sarcastic and snarky. He employs a particular brand of brutal honesty that manages to simultaneously depress and enrage the people around him, as he looks at the world through a veneer of cold detachment. He prefers to work alone, but grudgingly acknowledges that whatever they are facing is too big for him to solve without the expertise of the rest of the team, and seems to resent his own limitations.

There is one, however, whose company he always welcomes. No matter how engrossed he is in the day's research or experiment, he always seems to have time for Jamie, the former LA Telegraph journalist. Abraham likes her a lot; she's bright, and deceptively driven. She describes to the team her theories about the involvement of Reiden Global, occasionally assisted by Mitch, who it transpires, has been working unofficially with her for a few weeks, before they were both recruited to the team.

Time passes, the mystery deepens, and a near death experience or three teaches them all that they need to set their differences aside in order to achieve their goal. They learn that the reach of Reiden Global goes further than they ever could have imagined. They see horrible things. They learn that the only people they can trust are the four people around them. A true friendship begins to take root among the five of them. They are finally, a team.

There isn't much time for personal relationships when they're on a deadline to save the world, but by keeping his eyes open, Abe sees one blossoming anyway. He sees the way Mitch and Jamie seek each other out after the most recent traumatic event, the way they talk to each other sometimes like the other three aren't present. The way they usually seem to end up teaming up whenever the team separates. The way Mitch prefers Jamie to anybody else when he needs assistance in the lab. The way Jamie smiles when they happen upon Mitch in this week's crappy motel room, fast asleep, surrounded by papers because he was up all night again trying to find an answer. She approaches him, gently shakes him, calling his name, until he wakes with a start, finally relaxing when he perceives her.

"Sleeping on the job, Doctor Morgan?" she asks.

"You can't rush genius, Jamie." As he pulls himself into a sitting position, he looks slightly embarrassed to be found this way, and Abe notices him catch sight of himself in the mirror and cringe. Immediately, he straightens his glasses and tries to flatten his hair, which is sticking out every which way.

"Clearly not," she teases, and smiles at him. It seems automatic when he smiles back at her, and Abe registers that she is probably the one of the only people Mitch Morgan ever truly smiles at. He happily bestows smirks on to the rest of them and the odd maudlin laugh but only Jamie seems to elicit this gentle smile. And suddenly, he knows, that Mitch at least has feelings that have gone past the point of mere friendship; the soft way he looks at her sometimes is all the proof he needs

"Come on Doc, let's get some caffeine into you. I kind of need you conscious."

He wonders if Mitch even realises it yet, as he gets off the bed and allows Jamie to drag him out by the sleeve for a cup of coffee. That this man, usually so determined to do things his own way, follows her so willingly just because she asked, speaks volumes. He resolves to keep an eye on the situation, because whether he knows it or not, their analytical, straight-talking, no-nonsense scientist is now emotionally compromised. Abraham knows from experience how much trouble that can cause in high-pressure situations like this.

For a while it's not so bad, Mitch and Jamie carry on like they always have, the only thing that really changes is Mitch's new habit of putting himself between Jamie and potential harm. When the murderous animal of the moment has them cornered it becomes a common sight to see Mitch step in front of Jamie, or even go so far as to physically push her behind him in order to shield her from the threat. Consequently, he prefers to be within arm's reach of her whenever possible and frets in his own Mitch way when they're separated for too long.

And then the plane crash happens. Jamie is gone, and they're all hurting, but Mitch completely shuts down. Won't speak to anyone, or do anything but drink and be miserable until she miraculously reaches out and they get a location on her.

They arrive at the coordinates; see the rope she's laid out so they'll find the leopard ( _Clever girl,_ thinks Abe to himself) as Mitch searches frantically for any sign of her. But minutes pass and she's nowhere to be found, and they can't stay there any longer.

He knows Mitch isn't thinking clearly; he's too distraught and too in love to fathom the idea of leaving without her, but they've got no choice. They've got to get the leopard back, and Mitch is the brains of their operation, the one who developed the cure; they simply cannot do this without him. More to the point, Abraham will be damned if he loses another team member today. Losing Jamie was hard enough.

Mitch fights him tooth and nail to be allowed to stay longer and look for her. He isn't in a state to make a rational decision. So Abraham makes it for him.

On the flight back, he promises Mitch over and over that they'll come back for her, that they're not giving up, but he can understand why the man doesn't believe him.

In his eyes, Abraham has just signed the death warrant of the one he loves. If their roles were reversed, Abraham wouldn't forgive himself either.

* * *

 _Dariela_

The flight to Caraquet is quiet and tense. Ever since she became an accidental member of this bizarre team, Dariela has never known them to be like this. They've taken a hit with the loss of Chloe, and now they're off to retrieve the infamous Jamie. Dariela almost feels like she knows her already, even though they've never met; the others mention her a lot (Mitch in particular) and Abe filled her in on the particulars one night just after she arrived. She knows that the woman was an integral part of their team, and that with Chloe gone her absence is felt even more keenly. She doesn't begrudge them for wanting to retrieve her as soon as the plane becomes theirs; if it were one of her teammates, she'd be exactly the same.

The first sight she has of Jamie Campbell is of a slight woman, bravely attempting to fend off an attacking polar bear, and she takes great pleasure in shooting the beast with a tranquilizer. If it were up to her, she'd be using live rounds, but the others insist on tranqs whenever possible, because they might need the creatures alive for testing.

"How many are in the school?" she asks, but the woman ignores her completely, her gaze travelling past her and fixing on a point behind her. She takes off at a run, and Dariela turns to see the rest of the team emerging from the morning mist.

Without missing a beat, Jamie makes a beeline for Mitch, who catches her and exclaims something she can't hear, before pulling her into his arms, holding her as close as possible. Abe and Jackson keep a respectful distance as they cling to each other in a hug that goes on and on.

"You're late." She wonders if the harsh rasp of Jamie's voice has always been there or if it's a product of her ordeal. It can't have been easy, surviving for this long in the woods.

"I know. I'm so sorry." Mitch pulls back a little and goes into doctor mode, inspecting her for injury, but his eyes linger on her face. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried about you." She's never heard Mitch speak so tenderly, and thinks she might even see the beginnings of a tear in his eye as he finally releases her.

"You know me. Takes more than a little stroll through the woods to stop me."

Dariela can hear the grim truth behind her casual tone, but Mitch either doesn't notice or doesn't care right now, as his fingers brush against Jamie's cheek.

"I missed you." Jamie says it so quietly, it is clear that it's only meant for Mitch to hear, but Dariela's special army training helped her to hone her senses, so she catches it anyway.

"I missed you too. Every day."

As if finally remembering that they have an audience, Mitch and Jamie do no more than share a tentative smile after this pronouncement, before he steps away to let Abe and Jackson greet her.

After the joy of the reunion, Jamie looks around and furrows her brow in confusion.

"Where's Chloe?"

The three men exchange glances, and eventually it is Jackson who answers her.

"She…she didn't make it."

The pain is still fresh for Jackson, Dariela can tell, as he stammers over those few words, and sympathy washes over Jamie's face as she reaches for Jackson again, for a longer hug.

"I'm so sorry, Jackson," she says, and he seems to have lost the power of speech, but nods his head in appreciation of her words.

"What happened?" Jamie asks the group at large. "And who the hell is she?" She jerks her head in Dariela's direction and the army ranger feels a small stab of dislike, but reminds herself that Jamie has been through hell the last few weeks and just found out about the death of a friend, anybody would be snippy.

"We'll explain everything back at the plane," Mitch calmly interjects, sidling up beside Jamie.

"The what?"

He chuckles. "A lot's changed since you've been away," he says. "You'll see. Now lets get you the hell out of here."

"Sounds like a plan." The new, masculine voice makes them all turn around as a young man approaches them, a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Guess you were right, Jamie. Your friends came through. I'm Logan, by the way," he adds, when he registers the curious looks.

"Logan's my friend," explains Jamie. "He's been with me for a while. He's got my back."

 _Unlike the three of you._ She doesn't actually say it but she's thinking it plenty loud enough for Abe, Mitch and Jackson to get the message. Abe and Jackson exchange glances again, while Mitch looks as though he'd like to vomit. Or punch Logan in the face. Or possibly both.

Seeming oblivious to the tension, Logan turns to Jamie. "How's your foot?" he asks. "All the running you've been doing must be killing it."

Mitch suddenly loses all interest in Logan, and rounds on Jamie. "What's wrong with your foot?" he demands to know.

"Let's just say it's a long story that ends with an axe, and one less toe," says Jamie, blithely. Everyone except Logan gapes at her and Jamie takes advantage of the uncharacteristic speechlessness to continue. "It's like you said, Mitch, a lot's changed."

It's as if the girl has undertaken a complete personality transplant just in the last few minutes. It's almost impossible to equate the girl clinging to Mitch like a limpet with the one that stands before them now, discussing the amputation of her toe like it's nothing. Dariela is clearly not the only to think so as Mitch is surveying her with an expression that is equal parts confused and fearful. After a moment, he pulls himself together.

"I'll take a look at it as soon as we get back," he says.

He places a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she immediately shrugs it off. Mitch makes a valiant effort to take her rejection in stride even though Dariela suspects that if he had his way, he'd be carrying Jamie back to the plane himself and slamming the door shut in Logan's face.

"It's this way," he points vaguely in the direction they all came from. "Let's go."

* * *

 _Jamie_

She sits on the staircase that leads to Mitch's lab, tears wracking her body as she tries to come to grips with the fact that she'll never see him in it again. Never get to laugh at him when she surprises him at the microscope. Never again listen to his half-hearted complaints that she's distracting and a menace to the pursuit of science. Never again get to see his triumphant smile as he makes a breakthrough and proves once again just how good he really is.

Or was.

The bastard. How could he do this to them, to her? There had to be another way to get those fences up that didn't involve him sacrificing his life. Abraham had told her in secret how he'd refused point blank to leave her behind in Caraquet and had to be forcibly removed, what the hell made him think he had the right to take the same decision away from her?

She should have known when he'd volunteered to stay behind that he wouldn't be catching up. Should have seen it his eyes when he looked at her for what turned out to be the last time. Should have known he would pull a stunt like this, to be so annoyingly _Mitch_ about it, playing the selfish card right to the very last moment then letting his true colours shine through.

He'd saved her life. He'd saved them all. And now they were on their way to save his daughter too. It had all worked out way he'd planned.

"He said to tell you thanks," Abraham had said, as the news of what he'd done sank in, and she knew what that 'thanks' had really meant. The same thing he'd been trying to get out in Zambia, that he'd been telling her every day since then, through the touch of his hand or the soft way he looked at her. Again and again he'd told her, and she'd refused to hear it.

Instead, she'd lashed out at him. Pushed him away, put her trust in people that didn't deserve it. After spending three long months trying to get back to him, it was like she'd rather be anywhere else. And then, _finally_ they'd been getting back on track. The job was done, or so they'd thought. She was going to go with him to Maine. She was going to meet his daughter. They were going to get a chance to figure out what they could be, and now this.

She'd never get to thank him for always having her back. How much she'd enjoyed playing lab assistant for him, just the two of them. That he'd been the best thing that could possibly have come out of this bullshit they'd been involved in for the last two years. She'd never get to tell him sincerely how brilliant he was, and how proud she was of him the day he'd created the cure. And she'd never get to tell him that she'd loved him back. He'd died wondering. She couldn't forgive herself for that.

He'd taken all that away from her, by making the decision he had. The bastard.

She buries her head in her hands and sobs freely, as the plane wings its way away from Pangaea, and the man she loves.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading this story. I look forward to Season 3 with great anticipation.**


End file.
